


No Time to Die

by BossBaby



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Despair, F/M, Gen, POV Alternating, Pre-Killing School Life (Dangan Ronpa)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:28:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25429171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BossBaby/pseuds/BossBaby
Summary: Junko sighed dreamily. “You know how love and despair are the same, Mukuro?”As usual, Mukuro was quick to respond. “How?”Junko let out a sinister giggle, “People fall into both so easily, and not even know it.”A tale of Peko Pekoyama and Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu's descent into despair.[Not canon-compliant with the Despair Arc of Danganronpa 3: The End of Hope's Peak High School]
Relationships: Kuzuryu Fuyuhiko/Pekoyama Peko
Comments: 16
Kudos: 55





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _You were my life_   
>  _But life is far away from fair_

The first time Peko encountered her was at the communal dojo of Hope’s Peak Academy. Peko had been working through her kendo forms when she felt a pair of eyes watching her. It was unnerving. She quickly glanced over her shoulder and discovered her observer to be a tall female whose long blonde hair was done up in two twin pigtails. The girl’s appearance and stature made her look rather out of place in a training dojo.

When the girl noticed that she had been spotted, she strolled over. “Wow, that sure was impressive!” she said, smiling widely.

“Thank you,” Peko replied politely.

“Let me guess. You must be Peko Pekoyama, Ultimate Swordswoman!”

Peko inclined her head stiffly. “That is correct.” She quickly assessed the stranger. “And you?”

“Junko Enoshima,” the girl replied brightly.

“Are you here to train as well?” Peko asked.

“Aren’t you just the cutest?” Junko laughed. “No, I’m waiting for my sister. She’s the brawn, I’m the beauty,” she said with a wink.

Peko wondered if she knew the girl’s sister. There were several Ultimates who frequented the dojo with whom Peko had become acquainted with in passing. Sometimes, she even sparred with a few of them, although Peko mostly preferred to keep to herself.

“Do you attend Hope’s Peak?” Peko noticed that Junko wasn’t wearing the usual school uniform. Instead, Junko looked very snug in a black cardigan and one of the shortest red miniskirts Peko had ever laid eyes on.

“Sure do! Ultimate Fashionista,” she flashed a victory sign with her fingers. “But enough about little ol’ me. Your reputation totally precedes you. It must be such an honor to work for the yakuza.”

Peko froze. _How did she know about that?_ “I’m not sure what you mean,” she replied, trying to keep her voice as neutral as possible.

“Oh you don’t have to do that. I make it a habit to know all the important societal ins and outs,” Junko said, with a conspiratorial wink. “And an Ultimate as the bodyguard of the Ultimate Yakuza, that’s, like, deliciously newsworthy.”

Peko wondered if she should deny it. _What would the young master want her to do?_ “I would appreciate if you did not spread rumors,” Peko said carefully, neither confirming or denying Junko’s claims.

“Of course! You don’t have to worry about a thing!” Junko gave her a broad smile. “My lips are totally sealed. Cross my heart, hope to die.” Something about her tone sent chills down Peko’s spine.

“Oh I think my sister is about done. It was an absolute _pleasure_ meeting you, Peko Pekoyama. I hope we run into each other again.” Junko walked off with a friendly wave, pigtails bouncing behind her.

Peko watched her leave with a sense of unease.

* * *

The next time they met, the Ultimate Fashionista was again watching her from the sidelines of the dojo arena.

Peko had gone through her routine forms, trying to ignore Junko’s gaze. When she had finished, Peko settled into her usual sitting meditative stance, but found it difficult to relax her mind and body when being watched so obviously.

Peko opened her eyes after a few uncomfortable moments. She watched as Junko made her way over to her.

“Sorry, I’m being a total creep, aren’t I?” Junko said. “I just can’t help it! You look so perfect out there. I can see why you have the rep that you do.”

“Thank you,” Peko replied tactfully. “It is a privilege to attend a school that allows us to dedicate ourselves to refining our talents.”

“Oh I didn’t mean the reputation you have _here_ ,” Junko said with a giggle.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Peko said with a small frown.

“I mean being the sword of the yakuza. Nobody wanna mess with that! No offence, but you’re more chilling than the actual yakuza leader.” Junko spoke as if she were paying Peko a huge compliment.

However, it made Peko incredibly uncomfortable. “Please do not speak of matters you do not know of,” she said quietly.

Something in Junko’s eyes shifted. “Gosh, I’m so sorry. I’m such a blabbermouth. It’s a sore spot, isn’t it?”

Peko looked at her in confusion.

“For him. Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu. Ultimate Yakuza.”

Her entire body tensed. “What do you mean?” Peko asked.

“Look, as you said, it’s none of my business. I’m just saying, it must be hard for him. For his image.”

“His image?” Peko’s brows furrowed. Following Junko’s train of thought was proving to be an impossible task.

“You and him. It’s hard not to compare, y’know. It’s kinda hard for him to be taken seriously when you’re, like, so badass.”

Peko felt herself go cold.

Junko must have noticed the stricken look on her face. “Hey, that’s not a bad thing! Like, girl power. You keep doing you. Maybe they’ll even make you the boss instead,” Junko said, laughing.

Peko didn’t laugh with her. _How dare she._

“You’re wrong,” Peko said, her voice quiet.

Junko tilted her head curiously.

“He will be a great leader,” Peko said fiercely. “He _is_ a great leader.”

“Is that because of you? Or him?” Junko said, blue eyes glittering. “If you’re the one making them bend the knee, who do you think they’re afraid of? Who do you think they respect? The person giving orders? Or the one breaking kneecaps?” Junko was leaning in far too close.

“I will not tolerate you speaking poorly of him,” Peko said sharply.

“You’re only proving my point, sweetheart,” Junko replied.

“Junko?” A voice interrupted them.

Peko turned towards the stranger, trying to snap out of the daze that had fallen over her.

A thin girl with short black hair joined them, standing by Junko’s side. The smattering of freckles on her face absentmindedly made Peko think of the young master.

“My sister,” Junko declared as an introduction. “Mukuro, Ultimate Solider. Mukuro, this is Peko Pekoyama. Say hello.”

“Hello,” Mukuro replied obediently. She was soft-spoken, and quite the contrast to Junko’s overbearing personality.

 _They didn’t look like sisters_ , Peko observed. “Hello.”

“We should be going now, I’ll see you later,” Junko said with a coquettish wave. Mukuro followed after her sister in silence.

Peko's heart was still racing from the encounter even after they had disappeared from view.

* * *

Then Natsumi Kuzuryu was murdered, and everything fell apart.

“I’m going to find out who fuckin’ did it,” Fuyuhiko hissed, fists clenching. “And then I’m going to kill them.”

“Please young master, allow me to–”

He cut her off before she could finish, already knowing what she was about to offer. “ _No_ , Peko. Stay outta this.”

“But–”

“I said no!” He snapped. His eyes burned with emotion, pain over the loss of his sister and anger over the helplessness of not knowing who was her killer.

“Please let me assist you with this,” Peko tried again.

“I don’t _want_ your help, Peko!” Fuyuhiko shouted. “I don’t fuckin’ need it! I never did!”

Peko tried not to recoil at his words. He looked away from her.

“If that is what you wish,” she said tersely, head bowed.

“It is.” She watched his shadow shift as he moved past her to leave. “And don’t follow me either,” he said sharply before leaving her alone.

* * *

Peko defied his orders anyways. She tracked him for the next few days as he snuck around the school looking for answers. She was terrified that he would do something reckless.

The day it happened, she followed him to the classroom, bat in his hand. _Could he not have picked a more inconspicuous weapon?_ She couldn’t help but wonder helplessly. She tried to intervene before he met his target, but somehow he managed to evade her until it was too late.

She heard his raised voice behind the closed classroom door. She kept her eyes on the hallway in case anybody appeared.

She heard the panicked voice of the reserve course student. There was a resounding crack and then silence. Peko closed her eyes briefly.

A few moments later, she glanced around the hallway once more before sliding open the door and entering the room.

Fuyuhiko’s head snapped up in surprise at her appearance. Then quickly, a glare replaced his look of panic.

“I told you not to fuckin’ follow me!” He hissed at her.

She didn’t even flinch. There were splashes of blood on his school uniform. Slowly, she took the bloodied bat from his hands. They were shaking.

It was too messy, she thought. It would be far too difficult to clean up.

“We should leave,” she stated, eyes doing a quick sweep of the room.

She contemplated how to dispose of the murder weapon, but decided it was too risky to take the bat with them. They would have to leave it here, after wiping it of fingerprints.

“Your vest, young master,” she whispered.

He removed it silently and balled it up in his hands.

“And your sleeves.”

She was thankful when he rolled them up without argument.

They snuck out of the room quickly. Peko peeked around a corner and almost dove headfirst into Junko Enoshima.

“What do we have here?” Junko asked, eyes flashing as they darted from Peko to Fuyuhiko, who Peko positioned behind herself.

At Junko’s side was Mukuro, who watched them with curiosity.

Peko bristled. “Please excuse me,” she said crisply before brushing past them. She pulled Fuyuhiko along behind her, trying to shield him with her body.

Peko braced herself for Junko to halt them, to demand where they were going or what they were doing. However, she let them pass her with no interference.

They made it back to his dormitory room without running into anybody else.

“You will need to have those clothes cleaned immediately,” she said, reaching her hands out for them.

“Stop treating me like a damn kid! I know how to handle this. Just in case you haven’t noticed, I’m going to be a fuckin’ yakuza leader. I don’t need a fuckin’ babysitter!”

For a split second, Junko’s face flashed through her mind as if to tell her ‘ _I told you so_.’ Peko brushed it off. She had more pertinent matters to worry about now.

“What would you like me to do?” Peko asked evenly.

“ _Nothing_. What part of that don’t you understand?”

“Young master, they will find the body soon. You will be a suspect. Please just let me help you. _Please_ ,” Peko was close to panic.

“Just leave me alone, Peko. This is my fuckin’ problem, I’ll take care of it myself,” Fuyuhiko snapped.

 _Why wouldn’t he let her help him?_ Her eyes brimmed with frustration.

“I need you to leave, Peko. Now, please,” he said, not looking at her.

She did as he ordered.

* * *

Peko knocked on Junko’s dormitory the next day.

The door opened. “Peko Pekoyama! To what do I owe this pleasure?” Junko smiled brightly.

“May we speak privately?” Peko asked quietly.

“Ooo sounds serious!” Junko stepped back and gestured her in.

Peko closed the door behind them. She stood awkwardly in front of the fashionista, not sure how to initiate the conversation. Fuyuhiko was much better at handling these kinds of interrogations.

“Sure hope you’re not coming to do me in too,” Junko said cheerfully, not looking the slightest bit concerned at the possibility.

“What you saw the other day,” Peko started. “Did you…Have you told anyone?”

“Don’t sweat it, I’m not gonna rat you guys out,” Junko said, waving her hand breezily.

Peko surveyed her for any signs of trickery before nodding gratefully. “Thank you.”

“No problemo, what are friends for?” Junko’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “All I want to know is who did it? Was it you? Or him?”

Peko swallowed hard. “I did,” she said after a moment of silence.

Junko tsked loudly. “You trust me enough to keep your secret, but not enough to tell me the truth. And here I thought we were friends, Peko.”

 _How did she know?_ Peko eyed her warily. _She was much more perceptive than she let on._

“What if I said I wasn’t going to keep your little secret? What if I had told someone, hmmm? Would you still lie for him?” Junko’s voice sharpened. “Would you go to jail for him? Let yourself rot away in a prison cell?”

“Yes,” Peko answered resolutely. “My sworn duty is to protect him, whatever the cost.”

“You are so short-sighted,” Junko snapped.

Peko frowned at this sudden change in her.

Then just as quickly, the serious expression on Junko’s face dissolved into boredom. “Whatever, it’s your life. If you want to throw it away, then…” she shrugged. “All I’m saying is to think about whether or not what you’re doing is really helpful. You’re not doing him any favors by babying him.”

Peko bristled. “What are you saying?” she demanded.

“You talk all about _your_ duty. What _you’re_ supposed to do. Yada yada yada. Let me ask you this. Is _your_ duty aligned with what _he_ wants?”

Junko’s words hit her like freight train. _What was she talking about?_ She could never anticipate where Junko was steering her towards next until she crashed right into it.

“I never see you guys together around school. Ever wonder what the reason for that is?” Junko asked. Her blue eyes were boring into Peko’s, as if it could see every secret hidden there.

Peko froze.

Fuyuhiko had made the request the moment they had moved to Hope Peak’s Academy. _We don’t know each other here, you got it?_ He had said to her.

She hadn’t given it a second thought. But now…she wondered… _He hadn’t wanted others to know of their connection. Because…because she made him look…weak?_ Peko faltered. She knew that at the core of his insecurity as the yakuza heir was his own self-doubt. Fuyuhiko never saw how strong he truly was. She never thought about how she might be impacting his image. And Junko was right...his image was _so_ important as the future clan leader. He worried about it all the time, despite trying to hide it.

**/Was/**

**/she/**

**/harming/**

**/him?/**

All of Junko’s ridiculous words came hurtling back at her.

_“…you’re more chilling than the actual yakuza leader…”_

_“…maybe they’ll even make you the boss instead…”_

She had brushed off Junko’s earlier comments, not giving them much weight. However, she couldn’t ignore them as easily now that the young master had echoed similar sentiments.

_“I don’t want your help, Peko! I don’t fuckin’ need it! I never did!”_

_“Stop treating me like a damn kid! I know how to handle this. Just in case you haven’t noticed, I’m going to be a fuckin’ yakuza leader. I don’t need a fuckin’ babysitter!”_

The memories rushed through her mind like a tidal wave, and she was unable to prevent herself from being swept up by the soul-crushing implications of them.

**/He/**

**/Doesn’t/**

**/Want/**

**/You./**

The world seemed to tilt around her, the thoughts becoming too overwhelming and devastating to make sense of. She couldn’t doubt the truth of them, not when her memories lent credence to the dark and poisonous thoughts churning in her head.

“You need to let him go.” Peko hadn’t realized how close Junko had invaded her personal space. “You need to let him find his own way. Otherwise,” Junko brushed back Peko’s bangs from her face. “You will be the reason he fails to be who he was meant to be.”

**/The reason he fails?/**

Peko stared hollowly at Junko. “What do you propose I do?”

Junko smiled widely at her.

* * *

“Ah young love, it’s almost _too_ easy.” Junko sighed dreamily. She fiddled with her sister's black hair affectionately. “You know how love and despair are the same, Mukuro?” 

As usual, Mukuro was quick to respond. “How?”

Junko let out a sinister giggle, “People fall into both so easily, and not even know it.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Just goes to show_   
>  _That the blood you bleed_   
>  _Is just the blood you owe_

Peko was gone.

And Fuyuhiko had no fucking clue where she was.

He had checked her dormitory room as often as he could without being suspicious. But she never answered when he knocked.

It was summer break, which meant there were no classes. He went to the school’s dojo, but she wasn’t there either. He lingered in the cafeteria for hours, but she never made an appearance.

He was going to lose his shit.

She never went more than two days without checking in with him, despite his insistence that he didn’t need to be looked after. Now it had been five days. Five days since the murder of Sato, his sister’s killer. Five days since he had yelled at Peko to leave him alone. Why was he surprised that she actually listened?

Five days that he had spent losing his mind trying to find her.

He couldn’t ask any of their classmates either without raising suspicion. Not after the painstaking work they put into their rouse of not knowing each other. It had been his idea in the first place. He had just wanted her to have a normal life for once. Make friends. Be a normal teenager. Not sullied by her connection to the Kuzuruyu name. His family had already stolen so much from her; he just wanted her to be allowed to do things on her own for once.

Now she was missing. Or purposely ignoring him. He just had to find out which one it was. He hoped she was just upset with him, because at least then he would know she was safe. But Peko was never upset with him. She never just snubbed him, no matter how much of an asshole he was.

He felt completely helpless. He missed her badly. He desperately needed to know if she was okay. He didn’t know what he was going to do if she wasn’t okay.

He had just lost his sister. He couldn’t lose Peko too. He just couldn’t. Or he would lose his mind. She was his only lifeline out here in his fucking shitstorm of a life.

He went to bang on her dormitory room again.

There was a rush of relief when the door opened. _Finally._

The feeling was quickly replaced with immediate tension when he stood face to face with a girl with short black hair and freckles sprinkled across her nose.

Whoever she was, it wasn’t Peko.

“Who the fuck are you?” he demanded.

The girl barely reacted to his rudeness. She assessed him for a moment and he bristled under her observing eyes. “Mukuro Ikusaba.”

Fuyuhiko frowned. The name did not ring any bells. Whatever, that didn’t matter.

“Where the fuck is she?”

“Who?” she asked evenly.

“Peko,” Fuyuhiko said through gritted teeth. “Peko Pekoyama. This is her room.”

The girl studied him before speaking. “I don’t know.”

“Bullshit!” Before he knew what was happening, his hands were fisted into the collar of the girl’s shirt. Hot rage coursed through his veins.

Mukuro barely even flinched. “I don’t know,” she repeated, her voice remaining calm. “But I know someone who would.”

Fuyuhiko glared at her then released her abruptly. “Who?” he demanded.

She straightened her blouse calmly. “Follow me.” She gave him a glance before leading the way. He had no choice but to follow.

They passed through several hallways containing the student residences. He almost slammed into Mukuro’s back when she stopped unexpectedly in front of one of the dormitory rooms. He waited impatiently as she knocked on the door.

A tall female with wild blonde pigtails tied with twin bear hair clips greeted them. She was dressed in attire that was obnoxiously inappropriate. Her blue eyes seemed to light up at the sight of them.

“Well hello there!” she sang out, clapping her hands together happily.

“Who the fuck are you?” Fuyuhiko asked, brows knitting in confusion over how this bimbo would have anything to do with Peko.

“Junko Enoshima, the pleasure is all yours!” She said with a playful wink.

“She said you know where Peko Pekoyama is?” Fuyuhiko snapped, gesturing towards Mukuro.

Something flashed across Junko’s face that set him on high alert. “You shouldn’t listen to my good-for-nothing sister, she’s dumb as bricks,” Junko said cheerfully, patting the other girl's head like she would a dog.

_The fuck?_

Fuyuhiko glanced at Mukuro, who merely blushed and looked at the ground.

This felt like it was going to be a waste of fucking time, but he was at his rope’s end and desperate for anything that might help him find out about Peko’s whereabouts.

Fuyuhiko forced his way into Junko’s room and shut the door behind him. “Do you know where Peko is, or don’t you? The question is fuckin’ simple.”

“I might,” Junko said, twirling a strand of hair.

Who the fuck did this girl think she was? “Where the fuck is she?”

Junko looked him up and down, then crossed her arms over her ample chest. “I’m not telling you.”

His fists shook at his side as he struggled to maintain his composure. “Listen you bitch, if you don’t tell me–”

“What, you’ll send your yakuza dogs after me?”

So she knew who he was. Good, maybe he could use that to his advantage. “Worse, I’ll take care of you myself.”

“Well I should take that threat pretty seriously given all that I’ve heard about what your family does to pretty girls.”

Fuyuhiko frowned. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Isn’t that why you’re here?” Junko’s face suddenly took on a serious expression. “To find out where your _tool_ is?”

Cold shock from Junko’s words rendered him speechless. She did know something about Peko…how else would she have known that fucked-up label that Peko always referred to herself as. He had never been able to break her of that damn habit.

Several long minutes passed before he felt he could speak again. “What the fuck did you do to Peko?” he spat.

“What makes you think _I_ did anything?”

“If you didn’t do anything, then tell me where she is!” he hissed.

“Sheesh, guess she wasn’t lying about how bad it was huh?” Junko turned to Mukuro. “That’s pretty messed up!”

Fuyuhiko’s stomach lurched. What was she talking about? He felt nauseous. What the fuck was going on?

“You have ten seconds to explain yourself _right now_.”

Junko’s eyes narrowed. “Your Peko came to the realization that she’s, like, a living, breathing human being, and took off faster than the Ultimate Track Star.”

She…wouldn’t.

It felt like the air had been forced out of his lungs. His heart thumped erratically in his chest.

His mind raced wildly against the thought.

She would never leave him. Peko always talked about the _honor_ of serving him, how it was her duty and life’s purpose to protect him, and all that fucking bullshit that had been forced down her throat since they were children. She would never think twice about abandoning him with no warning.

…But isn’t that what he had wanted for her? Wanted her to make her own friends and a life of her own. Was it that unbelievable that she had actually listened to him?

Fuyuhiko swallowed hard against the tightness in his throat.

He was racked with anger. And…fear.

Fear that Peko had really gone. Fear that the reason she had left was because of him.

The thought throbbed painfully through his head and his body.

She had to know that he didn’t feel that way about her. She was never a tool to him. Never. Didn’t she know that? Hadn’t he said it enough? Yelled it into her face until his voice felt raw. Though...that seemed to do nothing except push her away even more. God, had he fucked up that badly?

“You’re fuckin’ lying.” His voice wavered, and he hated how pathetic he sounded. “If I find out that you’ve hurt her in any way, I swear to god I’ll–”

“You’ll _what_? Protect her? Defend her?” Junko sneered at him. “Gee, you’ve sure done a good job of that for the last 17 years.” 

**/Had he really fucked her up that badly?/**

Fuyuhiko felt like he was spiralling out of control. Every breath seemed to choke him faster. “Shut up, just shut up!”

His vision blurred with anger.

“Listen, sorry to be the one to break the news.” Junko’s voice softened, it was almost kind. “I probably shouldn’t have said anything. I wasn’t going to. But…Peko’s my friend, you see. I’m just looking out for her.” Junko’s blue eyes were piercing him.

“If you care about her at all, you’ll let her be. You’ll let her find her own way. Doesn’t she deserve that much?”

**/She hates you./**

He had to get out of here. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t keep his mind from the agony of those vicious thoughts.

He stumbled his way to the door.

Junko watched him with a curious expression.

His hand shook when it found the doorknob. He swallowed hard, trying to find his voice. “If I find out you’re lying about any of this, I swear I’ll fuckin’ kill you.” He had meant for it to come out intimidating and harsh, but he barely managed a whisper.

* * *

It was one week since his confrontation with Junko when Fuyuhiko found himself outside Peko’s door again. It had been two agonizing weeks since she had disappeared. He had never felt so unbearably _alone_ in his life.

The small flicker of hope he had held onto that Peko would be on the other side burnt out when he stood face to face with Mukuro. He was too weary to even order them to get the fuck out of Peko’s room.

“I want to talk to Junko,” he said hoarsely.

She gave a glance backwards into the room and then turned back to him, opening the door wider.

He spotted Junko sitting on the bed, pursuing a notebook with her legs kicked up behind her.

“Well, what do we have here?” Junko asked, perking up.

“Are you in contact with her?” Fuyuhiko demanded, not bothering with any greeting.

Junko tilted her head to the side. “In contact with who?”

“Stop playing dumb. You know who.” Fuyuhiko was too impatient to play any games. “Peko.”

Junko was silent for a moment. “I am.”

His hands trembled and he stuffed them into his pants pocket. “Is she…okay?”

“Why should I tell you anything? All you’ve done is threaten my life.” Despite her statement, Junko didn’t look particularly apprehensive of him.

Fuyuhiko felt so wiped out. It had been two weeks of hell, not knowing where Peko was. He was just so _tired_. “I just want to know that she’s okay.” His shoulders slumped in defeat. “That’s all.”

“Do you swear you’ll let her be?” Junko asked.

The thought of never speaking to Peko again sent jolts of agony through his chest. He didn’t know if he could bring himself to agree to such a painful reality.

Junko sighed loudly. “I can’t have you going after her when she wants to be left alone.”

“Is that what she wants?” He never felt so pathetically weak in his entire life.

“Since when have you ever asked about what she wants?”

Ice gripped his chest, freezing the defensive words that wanted to rush to his lips.

Junko gave a long sigh. “She’s okay for now. I’ve been helping her out.”

“Does she need anything? Money? Protection?” Fuyuhiko asked desperately.

“The most you can do for her is to protect her from your family. And yourself.”

Fuyuhiko flinched.

He was paralyzed by the implication of what he had done to her. Or what he had not done. How many chances did he have to change the course of Peko’s future? He had thought that when she had been admitted to Hope’s Peak Academy, she would get a second chance. But it was too late. He should have done something sooner. But he was selfish and weak and stupid. He couldn’t live without her, so he chose not to. The guilt churned in his gut. It was all his fault.

**/He/**

**/Had/**

**/Failed/**

**/Her/**

Painful shudders racked through his chest as he tried to draw a shaking breath. “Do…do you swear she’ll be okay?”

“Peko can take care of herself. But if it helps you sleep at night, I promise to help her find her way.” Junko flashed him a reassuring smile. It did nothing to make him feel any better.

“I just want her to be…happy.” Fuyuhiko grimaced when he realized he had spoken his thoughts out loud.

“Then our interests are aligned,” Junko replied gently.

A thick fog of darkness closed in on him and he welcomed it. It distracted him from the painful tension twisting within his chest in such a way that he did not notice the way Junko’s lips curled into a perverse smile.

* * *

“Oh Mukuro, do you know what the number one problem in relationships is?” Junko asked, spinning around in her chair, legs kicked in the air like a child.

“What is it, Junko?” Mukuro asked politely.

“Poor communication,” Junko winked, then burst out into a fit of laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy (belated) Birthday, Fuyuhiko!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Was I stupid to love you?_   
>  _Was I reckless to help?_   
>  _Was it obvious to everybody else_   
>  _That I'd fallen for a lie?_   
>  _You were never on my side_   
>  _Fool me once, fool me twice_   
>  _Are you death or paradise?_   
>  _Now you'll never see me cry_   
>  _There's just no time to die_

They crossed paths with each other one year later, barely recognizable shadows of their former selves.

Fuyuhiko was on route to a meet-up location to receive further instructions about his next assigned despair mission. His senses barely had time to register a proper warning when his body was suddenly locked in place.

Fuyuhiko knew it was her the moment he felt the cold blade against his throat. He could never match her skill in stealth – not then, not now.

When his eyes crept up to her face, he was met with a look of confusion.

_Peko_. Her name came out in a hoarse whisper. He wondered if he was dreaming.

The sharp edge left his throat. She stood back, appraising him.

A brief flash of clarity flickered through the fog in his mind.

“You left.” The words flew out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Then she spoke. “I had to.” She gripped her sword in her hand, the blade glistening with fresh blood. Her hair hung long past her shoulders, loose and free.

Fuyuhiko drank her in greedily. It had been _so_ long.

**/Look how liberated she has become without you./**

**/Look how high she holds herself./**

**/Look at all that she has accomplished without you holding her down./**

“What have you been doing?” He asked, despite knowing the answer. He questioned Junko about her constantly, and she indulged him like feeding scraps to a starving dog. He knew all about Peko’s feats, the hundreds slaughtered by the dance of her sword. Junko showed him the pictures that Mahiru had taken of her slayings. It made him sick. It was horrific. It was…/ **magnificent** /.

“What I do best,” Peko said coldly.

Something distant in his mind screamed at the twisted smile playing at her lips. It distorted the features that he had fallen so hopelessly in love with years ago.

**/When did you ever make her smile anyways? You wouldn’t even know what it looks like./**

He relished in such a wonderfully despairful thought.

But something struggled against the enthralling depths of despair. It clawed at his mind, trying to force itself out. **_This wasn’t supposed to happen to her! You were supposed to protect her!_**

“Are you…okay?” He needed the affirmation. Needed to hear how much better off she was without him

It would bring him such **/beautiful d e s p a i r/**.

“I am as I should be,” she replied simply.

**_God, it hurt so much to see her. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt–_ **

“Have you been well?” Her voice broke through the tangled mess of his thoughts.

**_No, I need you. I miss you so much._** “I can take care of myself,” he forced out the lie.

For one brief moment, he fought for lucidity. “I never needed a tool,” he gasped out. **_I love you, Peko. I love you, I love you–_**

Her face contorted at his words.

**/You’re pathetic. See how much she hates you? She wants to slit your throat./**

Fuyuhiko watched in horror as Peko suddenly fell to the ground. She let out a pained moan that pierced straight through his spine. He panicked. “Peko?” he whispered. She didn’t respond, just continued trembling. _What was wrong with her?_

“Peko!” he called to her helplessly.

**/Look at what you did. Your presence is bad for her. You do nothing but hurt her./**

He recoiled, retracting the hand that wanted to desperately reach out to her.

She was a quivering mess, arms clutching at herself. She wouldn’t look at him. She sounded like she was crying. It was the worst sound he had ever heard in his life.

“Peko!” he cried out, unable to stop the tears from flowing down his face.

Suddenly she looked up at him. The fear coating her features shattered something deep within him. **_She is afraid of you._**

“ **/Leave me alone!/** ” she choked out.

He flinched as if she had struck him.

Before he knew it, Peko had jumped up and started running. She was too fast that he knew he wouldn’t keep up.

She had been crystal clear hadn’t she? She wanted nothing to do with him.

**_She hated him._ **

And just like that, she had left him again.

When Fuyuhiko finally raised his eyes from the spot Peko had occupied, the despair in his eyes swirled more wildly than before.

* * *

Although Peko had the element of surprise, the moment he turned his face to look upwards at her, she was the one caught off guard. _What was he doing here?_ Her heart felt ready to leap out of her body.

“You left.” The accusation flew at her like an arrow piercing through her chest.

The hand holding onto her sword was trembling. “I had to.” If only she could explain everything to him. **_I did it for you._**

**/He is so strong now, without you. This is the true leader he was meant to be./**

Peko had watched him from the background. Even though it took every fiber of her being to stay away from him, she never truly left. She remained hidden in the shadows, always poised to strike if ever he was in true danger. But Junko had been right. Her role threatened the very image he was trying to build of himself. He had to show the world his strength. Without her.

And he did. He commanded his own army of loyal followers who left a trail of blood, destruction, and despair in his name and by his order. He was brilliant. Just as she always known him to be.

“What have you been doing?” Fuyuhiko demanded.

“What I do best.”

A weak voice arose through the muddy waters of her mind. **_Please save him. Protect him. Don’t let him go on like this. Please, please, please–_**

She was staggered by the rising need to be by his side.

**/You don’t belong there anymore./**

**/You never did./**

**/You only ever held him back./**

Peko sank back into the familiar comfort of misery again, the swirls of despair bringing a hopeless smile to her face.

“Are you…okay?” he asked. There was something soft and tender in his gaze – it made her chest ache with a familiar feeling that she had forced away long ago.

“I am as I should be.” **_I don’t care what happens to me._**

“Have you been well?” she asked desperately.

He scoffed at her, “I can take care of myself.”

**/He doesn’t want you. He never did./**

**/Useless./**

“I never needed **/you/** ,” he reminded her.

Peko nodded, her thoughts hazy. The tendrils of despair gripped at her mind, slithering through the fleeting fractures and consuming her once again.

Her hand tightened around her sword. It was smeared with blood. She stared at it.

She had been so close to coating it in _his_ blood. If his face had not registered in her mind, she would have slashed his neck. She couldn’t count how many mindless executions she had committed...barely conscious of the faces of the lives she took. How had she become so careless? Any of those could have been _him_. The horrifying thought sent a delightful shiver through her.

**/Imagine killing him with the sword that you swore to protect him with!/**

**/Think of all the despair it would bring you! It would be _so awful_./**

**_No. No. No._** She fell to her knees, gripping at her chest. She vaguely registered her sword falling to the floor with a clang.

“Peko.” His face swarmed into her blurred vision.

**_Get away from me, I’ll hurt you!_ **She wanted to scream in panic.

“Please leave me!” she gasped out, trying to move away from him. **_I can’t be trusted._** There was an excruciating pain pounding beneath her ribcage.

**/Who knew a tool could feel so much?/** The mocking voice taunted her.

She had to get away. With every ounce of strength she had, Peko pushed herself off the ground. And without a word, she ran from him.

She heard his yells behind her. But she was faster. She ran and ran and ran until her legs felt like they would give out. She ran until she had no breath left.

She collapsed a sobbing mess onto the dirty ground. She didn’t even know where she was. She was tired. So tired. She couldn’t fight it off anymore. She had one more fleeting thought before the despair consumed her completely once again. **_I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you._**

* * *

Junko lowered the binoculars down from her face. _Interesting_.

“Well, that certainly was entertaining!” She said, roughly hopping off her sister’s back. Mukuro straightened upright after being diligently hunched over so that Junko could stand on her back to observe the couple below them. Not that Junko really needed the added height as they were watching from the balcony of an abandoned building. But Mukuro did delight in being tortured, and Junko would never deprive her sister of such pleasures.

Mukuro stood up. “What happened?” she asked curiously.

“Nothing much. Just lots of unresolved sexual tension,” Junko replied.

Junko had wondered what an interaction between the dramatic star-crossed lovers would lead to. She had anticipated the despair, but there had been a brief moment when Junko had witnessed a flicker of their old selves.

“We’ll have to keep an eye on them…don’t want them messing up all my hard earned plans!” Junko exclaimed.

_They were a bit too dangerous together._ “Best to keep them apart,” she decided. “After all, distance makes the heart grow fonder!”

Mukuro nodded obediently.

“Or maybe I should say _despair_ makes the heart grow fonder!” Junko cackled to herself.


End file.
